


Valentine's Day

by xDomino009x



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Boom box, Cheating, Cupid Hanzo, Drabbles, Dress Up, Drinking, F/F, Gift Fic, Kissing, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, Music, Roses, Secret Relationship, Valentine's Day, mercymaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 12:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9726578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDomino009x/pseuds/xDomino009x
Summary: A handful of drabbles for what some people are getting up to on Valentine's Day





	1. McHanzo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mVincentJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mVincentJ/gifts), [InsertImaginativeNameHere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertImaginativeNameHere/gifts).



> A post the rest of this soon so check back, for now I'm too sleepy goodnight!  
> Enjoy the drabbles!

Hanzo looked at it with distaste, like he might look at a badly made cup of tea or his younger brother. Jesse held it out with a wide smile across his face, his eyes crinkled at the corners with laughter he wouldn't let out. He was deadly serious, and he wanted Hanzo to know it.

The cowboy had always had a way of turning a good thing into something awful. There had been the Christmas outfit a few months ago and now this.

Hanzo took the costume and turned his back on Jesse. Behind him, Jesse cheered by himself at his victory. It was annoying, but Hanzo supposed the American had to win sometimes. He wasn't looking forward to finding his way into the awkward looking clothes his cowboy had picked out. He muttered to himself the entire way to the secluded corner where he was planning to change. 

Twice he had to throw a scowl over his shoulder at the clink of spurs as McCree tried to get a peek before he was fully dressed.

When he was done be turned around. Jesse looked at him with a wide grin that was badly hiding his laughter. He coughed and to his credit it didn't sound fake or mocking. The cowboy enjoyed the view a lot. He'd picked it special so of course it was obviously perfect.

Hanzo sighed and hung his head a little. The fluffy wings on his back rather ruined his brooding, as did the little heart in the end of his arrow. Cupid was a stupid idea, he decided that there and then. Whoever had commercialised it deserved this unseemly arrow somewhere unpleasant.

But as annoyed with his new attire as he seemed, a small smile slipped onto his lips. Jesse was enjoying himself and that was something good.

 


	2. Mercymaker

She sticks to the shadows until she sees the familiar ‘ _ Trautes Heim, Glück allein _ ’ sign hanging beside a hand painted door. It has been a few weeks since she's been on this porch, looking through the bay window that the medic was lucky enough to get in her apartment. It's full of plants at various stages of life.   


she knocks three times, watches as a light flicker on and a shadow move behind the curtains. The door opens to a serious face, haloed by blond hair. “Amélie,” the woman greets her nervously, looking around and pulling her inside quickly. Amélie allows herself to be dragged unceremoniously through the doorway and moves aside as the door is closed behind her. The blonde frowns. “You shouldn't be here.”

“Relax Angela,” Amélie says with a laugh, pushing past her and further into the apartment. Her laugh almost does make Angela relax, but not quite.

She follows after the younger woman, shaking her head at the two wine glasses already in her hand. “If anyone knew you were here though, there are already rumours -” She's silenced with a kiss as Amélie passes her by, bottle of wine in hand. She watches in silence as the woman pours them both a drink.

“No one knows. Relax, s'il vous plait.” Angela sighs and takes a deep drink from the wine glass. Her hands seem unsteady for a doctor but Amélie doesn't comment. Instead she moves forward, taking Angela's free hand and spinning her around slowly as if there was a slow song playing to dance to. Finally Angela laughs. Amélie is glad to see her smile.

“How was your dinner?” Angela asks absentmindedly.

It is Amélie’s turn to frown. “Let us not discuss my husband when I'm alone with you, ma cherie.” Angela wants to apologise but knows that isn't what Amélie wants to hear.

She sighs. Probably the poor man thinks his wife just doesn't care for valentine's day, doesn't agree with the commercialism or the obligation to confess undying love every few hours and the ridiculous price for a single rose. Angela has such a rose lying on her bedside table, a gift from the same woman who had found an excuse to be away from the man she should be giving roses to.

“Kiss me.”

Angela is broken out of her thoughts by the rough shove against her shoulder. Amélie has put her glass down, half finished, and a playful smile tugs the corners of her lips. Angela backs up, leaning against the kitchen counter and taking hold of Amélie’s hands to bring her closer. The woman closes the distance between them, eager lips pressing against the medic’s.

Angela laughs as Amélie lifts her up onto the counter. She's stronger than she looks.

It's hard to spare a thought for a husband alone on valentine's day when his wife has a hand resting promisingly high up her thigh, but Angela manages even as she whispers, “I love you too,” in reply to Amélie’s confession.

The only confession Amélie will make tonight, but Angela will mutter it again and again beside that traitorous rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're awful but I love them...


	3. Boom Box

The first day it aired on the radio seemed like any other day to the Australian. He sat by himself while Mako was busy elsewhere, bottle in hand and nothing on but a pair of shorts. His dusty body was exposed to the elements of the early February morning.  


He paid no attention to the announcers discussing their evening plans with significant others, or the guests who told stories about how they'd met the loves of their lives.

But he listened when the musicians name was mentioned; he had been waiting for a chance to hear his new single.

The bass was heavy as usual, the instruments nothing more than a mess of noise to Junkrat’s untrained ears. It be listened carefully anyway, waiting for the lyrics to kick in.

His breath caught uncomfortably in his throat when he heard the younger man's voice. He wished he hasn't listened to the words.

“Well?” an overly cheery voice asked from behind him. The familiar noise of roller skates made him frown for a change. He didn't want to turn round and see Lucio, so he didn't. He closed his eyes and folded his arms across his bare chest and pretended he hadn't heard a thing.

“C’mon Fawkes! Whaddya think of the new song?” Lucio asked, moving round to the front of the deck chair Junkrat was lounging on.

“It sucks.” Junkrat didn't even open his eyes.

He didn't see Lucio’s shoulders sag or his smile falter. Didn't see the clench of his jaw or the ball of his fists that hung useless at his side. Lucio nodded without words and sighed.

Junkrat opened his eyes and swallowed. Where was that fighting spirit? “Who’s it ‘bout?” he asked, the bitterness obvious in his voice.

For a moment Lucio still looks dejected, then he looks hopeless even though there's a sparkle of hope left in his bright eyes. “Well, who d’ya think?” He answers the question with a question shamelessly, watching Junkrat try to flick through names in his head. In the end Junkrat just shrugs and looks very confused, not wanting to meet Lucio’s eye as they both wait in the grayish winter sun.

February 14th had never meant much to Junkrat, a scavenger didn't need boxes of chocolates or flowers.

But when a talented musician confesses his latest single was written for him and drops a heart shaped box of candies onto his lap, even a scavenger has to take a moment to reassess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two were so fun to write for, might do it again. They're so pure


End file.
